Not Written In Blood
by Squidling
Summary: There's a new pen-pal system at Hogwarts as part of a school-wide project. Lily isn't too thrilled about it, but who's letter did she receive? May not be who you think, that's for sure. A bit OOC. Rated M just just in case. R8R, bbys.


**Not Written in Blood**

**Chapter One: Clever Bot**

_"One of the symptoms of an approaching nervous breakdown is the belief that one's work is terribly important."  
- Bertrand Russell (1872-1970)_

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To begin with…

**Lily's POV**

Today was the day, thought the witch with a melancholic air. Today was the day she would receive her letter. As if life as a witch wasn't interesting enough, Dumbledore, the headmaster at Hogwarts, had instigated a school-wide project. This project could be summed up in two words; Pen Pal.

Because muggle technology did not work on the castle's grounds, the letters would be exchanged traditionally, via owl-post. Everyone would be using a school owl that has specific instructions to take the letter to their assigned person along with their person's usual mail. It was two Thursdays ago that Lily Evans was assigned her owl. It was big and black, with orb-like yellow eyes that seemed decidedly wicked. The owl gave Lily a sense of foreboding.

Lily glanced at the Great Hall's Gryffindor table, eyeing the food as she sat down. Her stomach was in knots, though she hadn't eaten in a day or two. Normally, she didn't fret over projects and such. She was quiet and reserved, usually retiring to her regular study nook instead of socializing with people. The only issue she had with this project could be summed up in three words; it was anonymous.

Anonymous.

One little word that made Lily's heart plummet. It would be one thing for her to write to someone she knew, another to write to a complete stranger. Lily didn't open up to people, she liked the solace in herself, and felt comfortable being isolated from others. It wasn't like she had a tragic past that shattered her belief and trust with people, causing her to go on a tirade of self-pity and inner -monologing. No, she grew up rather quietly with two married muggle parents, a sister, and a pet goldfish. Nothing terribly exciting until she received her first letter, inviting her to Hogwarts. She was just one of those people who liked to work by themselves.

She sat at the table, contemplating whether or not she'd be able to eat the delicious looking apple without retching. She didn't want to chance it. Instead, she cracked open a beefy volume, flipping to the spot where she had left off. Something about werewolves, she remembered.

"You read a lot."

Her head jerked up at the sound of the voice. She wasn't used to people addressing her so informally, never the less speaking to her at all.

She raised a brow, her eyes not leaving the page in her book. "And what of it?"

"Nothing. Just an observation."

Lily flickered her green-eyed gaze toward the speaker, surprised to see the silver and green scarf around his neck. Slytherins generally strayed away from the Gryffindor table. This piqued her interest.

"I see," she responded, meeting the speaker's hazel-eyed gaze. He was gangly, decidedly a seventh year, so he was a year older than her, she guessed. Tall, with fair amount of black-blue hair that appeared to be cut with pruning shears, giving it a look of elegant dishevelence. A fair amount of acne smattered across is slightly hooked nose. She immediately categorized him as no one interesting.

Just as well, as the male got up and left. She remembered seeing him before, she thought, nibbling delicately at a fingernail. She urged her mind to make connections, to come up with a name. There was a click. She had it. His name was Severus Snape. She filed that away for later.

She licked her lips, her mind making a final count down before the owls arrived. She was chosen to receive her letter, rather than write one. This was all the more nerve wracking.

Lily scanned her fellow housemates, idly wondering what the Sorting Hat had pulled out of her mind to sort her into Gryffindor. Early on she had decided she would be much more suited for Ravenclaw, where the brains of the school generally resided. Or possibly even Slytherin, for she was cool and calculating even in the most severe measures.

Gryffindor was notorious for their bravery, and stupidity. Both words in which you could not use to describe Lily Evans. She was about as brave as Scooby-doo without a Scooby Snack. She was snapped out of her reverie as the unmistakable clatter and ruckus of approaching owls filled the Great Hall, overshadowing the fits of hysterical chatter from students.

Lily spotted the black owl with ease, her stomach dropping as she saw the parchment envelope clutched within its talons. She sighed as the great bird dropped the letter onto her plate and nudged her hand with its sharp beak. She swore softly, fumbling through her robes for a sickle to give the bird as it swooped off to join the others at the Owl Post.

Her eyes became trained on the letter. It was a simple letter; the envelope was made of parchment with the words 'Lily Evans' scrawled on the front. The handwriting was surprisingly neat, and that seemed to ease her nerves a little. Maybe it was from a Ravenclaw.

Her hands were shaking as she went to pick up with note, flipping it over to admire the purple wax seal on the back. She held the letter close to her face, trying to make out what the seal was comprised of. It was hard to tell, as it was not nearly as embossed as she would've preferred, but she was happy with her assumptions that there was indeed some sort of four legged animal reared on its hind legs on one side with some sort or sword or blade on the other, both connected with a rope or ribbon winding around the two of them. She scrapped her finger underneath the seal and broke it. The letter fell open.

_Dear Pen Pal,_

_I guess I'll start off with a hello, although I'm not entirely sure what this project is supposed to teach us. I suppose we need to get to know each other, at least. Who knows? Maybe you aren't some over-blown codswallop with the inability to formulate complete sentences. I have my fingers crossed, you know._

_Unfortunately, judging by the student body, my chances look bleak. _

_I mean you no offense, however. Have you ever noticed that when someone states 'No offense' it ends up being code for 'I'm apologizing, but I'm going to offend you anyway whether you like it or not.'_

_Seems a bit demanding to me._

_You'll have to excuse my rambling. I tend to do that. If it gets to ridiculous, feel free to reprimand me. I don't mind. I'll just sulk for a couple days, but I should get over it…eventually. _

_That was a joke, by the way._

_Ahh…alright. What else is there to write about? I like to play Quidditch, read, and draw. Though the two latter ones are something that not a lot of people know about me. But who could you tell that to? You don't know who I am, so I guess my secrets are safe with you, whether you want them to be or not._

_Did that sound rude? I didn't want it to be. _

_Anyway, what are some things you like to do? Any favorite classes? Favorite Quidditch team? Book? Artist?_

_Really, anything at all you'd like to share. Think of me as a personal diary that can respond to questions from time to time. Almost interactive. I like to listen, though you wouldn't know it if you knew me. _

_So I suppose that's all. I really do hope you have the ability to understand what I wrote and are able to devise you own thoughts and opinions. That would make my day so much brighter._

_Sincerely Yours,_

_Bot_

Lily reread the letter a couple times, smiling slightly at the writer's attempted wit. They were charming, she had decided, though decidedly rude and perhaps biased. Also, what kind of a name was Bot anyway? Some sort of nickname perhaps. Since it was anonymous, you were encouraged to come up with an alias. She had decided you use the term 'Root.' Because of her vividly red hair, she's been referred to as 'Ginger' on many occasions. The purest form of ginger was when it's in its root form, so thus the alias 'Root' was born. Besides, no one could guess that it could be her with something like that.

She carried her letter back with her toward the common room, reading it a couple more times to drown out the excited prattle among her peers over the arrival of the letters. People were getting rather worked up about this, she noted.

Sitting down in her usual nook, she took out an eagle-feather quill and set off to write her response.

_Dear Bot,_

_What an odd name to call yourself! I find myself wondering exactly why you would choose such a name for yourself. That eager to keep your anonymity, hm?_

_But yes, I must confess I'm not sure the meaning of this project. Thou art essentially a coward without instinct. Perhaps not, as I should hope. _

_That was a Shakespeare quote, by the way. If you can tell me which work it's from, I'll have no choice but to offer my respect. _

_Furthermore, your wit and style entertains me. I find you refreshingly new, if that makes any sense. But do not worry about your rambling, because I fear I will probably do the same. _

_I have to tell you, I know nothing about Quidditch. It is not something I keep track of, though I like the concept of the game. _

_I like to read and draw as well. I like to draw people, most especially. Candid, you know. I don't like people posing, it makes my artwork seem staged, if that makes any sense. I also like to write. _

_My favorite class is probably Potions, as it is the one I am best with. I have knack for calculating, it seems, so Ancient Runes is also something I'm relatively good at. Arithmacy and Science…I like them very much. _

_My favorite book… well that's a tough one. I generally like muggle classics, although I have to skip the first few pages before I get into it. I also like Principalities by Margerate Wolshock. Her writing is very clever. _

_Artist? I love muggle artists, as it is something I grew up with. Salvador Dali, if you are familiar with him, is probably my favorite. The surrealism and the thought that went into his work are amazing. I love it. _

_I think I answered all of your questions, so I guess I should ask a few of my own. _

_Tell me something interesting that happened today? What about your family? Also, tell me who you are?_

_Just kidding, naturally._

_You surprised me, I must say. I was pleasantly shocked to read a letter with full sentences and thought processes. I hope you don't disappoint me with your next one._

_Sincerely Yours, of course,_

_Root_

Lily reread her response numerous times, editing here and there before slipping it into an envelope and sealing it by dripping red wax at the close and stamping her mark into it. She left it on the windowsill to her right, and began to doze off.

That is until a particularly noisy group of people came bustling through the common room.

"Oi, what's this?" laughed one of people. Male, by the richness of his voice. Lily opened her eyes to be confronted by the man she loathed. James Potter.

More importantly, James Potter holding her letter.

"Hey! Give that back, toad!"

"Oh goodness, Evans. Is this a love letter?" he teased, pulling the letter away from her reach.

"No, Potter. It's my response to my pen pal. It would be smart not to open it. You know the rules."

James frowned, running his hand through his messy locks of black hair as he stared down the bridge of his nose at her. "Well---"

"Why don't we go see if there's anything left in the kitchens," interrupted his friend, Sirius Black. Sirius was the smarter one of the group that called themselves 'The Marauders', which consisted of James Potter, Sirius Black, the trouble-making Remus Lupin, and the pack mule or scapegoat Peter Pettigrew. All were considered attractive in their own respects, and all were sought after in one way or another. Whether as ally or lover, it depended on the person.

Unless you were Lily, in which case you could care less about them.

However this time Lily sent Sirius a grateful look as James' mind was taken off of her and turned toward the prospect of food. Sirius acknowledged the gesture with an incline of his head, before they all tottered off in the direction of the kitchens.

Lily sighed, glanced at the envelope as her black owl appeared at the window, as if by magic. Well, it probably was, but still.

She attached the letter, sent the creature on its way, sat back, and smiled.

This pen-pal thing might not be so bad after all.

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**AN:**

Gah okay. Hi. Sorry I haven't updated my other story, I know what's going in the chapter, I just don't have the patience to write it down! xD

Uhm well…I got bored and decided to write this. Let me know if I should continue it. I like the basis of it; even it's a bit cliché. Hopefully I won't make it so. C:

I appreciate reviews, please. Yes? Good.

Reviews make the character of your choice take his/her shirt off. So think about it. ;D

Love always, yo.

**-Alex**

**DISCLAMER: Yeah. I own nothing. (:**


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